The Borough of Churches
by SexyDeathEater
Summary: Steve longed to return to his heaven on earth. He wanted, no, need to return to that one place that would make him feel happy, wanted and loved. Where no one judged him or looked in his way. He agrees to Bucky's offer of running away from home, finding it the perfect opportunity to return to his heaven, Brooklyn.
1. Unu

It was a long, humid and sticky night when the sounds of smashing sounded throughout the entire block. The source of the sound was due to the sounds of glasses and plates flying towards a scrawny, pale and blonde haired teenager. The young boy was trying his best on avoiding the collusion of the items on his body as he stumbled to his left and right.

A women with long, flowing brown hair with smeared eyeliner and wiped away lipstick around her mouth, kept on hurtling item after item on the poor boy. Tears were rolling down her face and the words that she were screaming were so slurred, one might mistake it for actual gibberish.

Once the sobbing Caucasian noticed that she no longer had any objects to throw, she dropped to her knees, clutching onto her hair tightly and started pulling at it.

"Mom!" the seventeen year old yelled, worry clearly shown on his face as he rushed towards his mother and tried pulling her hands away from her hair. But the mother refused. She began slapping at the helping boy's hands; scratching and clawing at it as if she was some sort of angry cat.

"Get away from me! You, you disease!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, crawling away from the boy with tear filled eyes.

"Mom, it's me! I'm your son, Steve!"

The woman placed her hands against her ears, in total denial and disagreement to what she was hearing.

"No! You are not my child! _My_ Steve loves his mother! He would never harm her!"

If anyone were to walk in, people would think that the brown haired lady had completely lost it! Which of course, is correct.

The boy, or Steve, had a look of hurt, pain and worry scattered all over his face as he tried to approach his own mother and failing as the woman screamed as if someone was after her and wanting to finish her off.

A single tear rolled down Steve's pale cheek as the feeling of frustration grew within him. He wanted to stay and help his mother but he also wanted to leave her be before she woke up the entire neighborhood!

But, knowing the area they live in, probably most of the residents were awake; some rolling their eyes, grumbling that they're not the only ones facing difficulties and hardship in life, while others tried to distract themselves from the fight.

Steve clutched his head tightly, mimicking his mother's action from just a few moments ago, before turning around and dashing up the stairs and pushing the door that led to the roof top open.

The blonde haired boy's breathing came out harshly, the same way whenever runs away from a group of bullies. If you could squint your eyes a bit, you could see tiny beads of sweat located on Steve's forehead as he walked to the edge of the rooftop, a hand running through his hair while gulping loudly.

"Rough night?"

Steve jumped at the sound of a curious voice. He turned to his left to see a tatted, tall man blowing out the smoke he took from the cigarette that was between his fingers.

Steve had never noticed his neighbor, James Barnes, standing on the rooftop of his own house. To be honest, Steve had not actually taken notice of his quiet neighbor.

James Barnes, or Bucky as he prefers it, is a 24 year old drop out. He, like many others, never had any sorts of interests in the educational life. Always thinking about parties, girls and having endless fun.

Bucky Barnes is considered as a bad influence, a bad seed, but in the outskirts of San Pablo, California, he's just your everyday Joe. People around here are used to kids like Bucky, so they never bother with scolding them or lecturing them about how school is important, about how getting his Diploma and then his Bachelor's will get them places in life. They've tried that before but, alas, it was all in vine.

"You could say that." Steve sighed, lifting his head upwards and allowing his gaze to get lost in the sea of shining stars. Unlike the city, you can actually see the stars and the moons clearly without the tall and flashy buildings blinding you.

The air around the neighborhood is somewhat fresher and purer than the air that floats in the city. Pollution lazily swimming between people and slowly slithering into them through their noses to start their slow and hidden attack that will instantly kill.

"Wanna… talk about it?" Bucky asked, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he scratched the back of his head.

"No." Steve shook his head lightly.

The air between them is comfortable. The quite night and chilly air allows the two to just gaze far, far way to a world that they can only see. One world is filled with adventure, the rush of adrenaline and excitement while the other world is filled with misery, unanswered questions and depression.

The two have been standing like that, just gazing into the night sky for about two hours until Bucky stretched and emitting strange cat like noises. The popping of his bones caused a strange reaction of satisfaction for the tatted man.

"If I were you," Steve was broken from his trance once that husky voice filled his ears once more. "I'd run away." Bucky continued before walking away.

Steve laid on his bed, wide awake.

After Bucky had left, he stayed on the rooftop for another half an hour before going back inside and going down the stairs. He let out a hopeless sigh at the sight of his mother's body lying on the kitchen floor with a bottle of whiskey besides her.

He crouched down beside her and took her in his arms. He tucked her in bed, removed that annoying piece of hair that was covering her face before kissing her forehead and silently wishing her a goodnight.

Sleep had refused to join Steve in their adventure to dream land. Which is why Steve is still wide awake at the ungodly hour of three am. He lay shirtless, in navy blue cotton pants and the blanket thrown to the ground after many turning and tossing before Steve letting out an angry growl and throwing it to the ground.

Steve knew the true reason on why he could not sleep but he preferred to childishly blame it on something silly. Such as; the bed isn't comfortable enough, the side of the pillow is too warm now to sleep on and the weather is too hot.

But he knew very well that the thoughts running inside his mind, gleefully, is the true reason on his lack of sleep. Thoughts, regardless of them being important or not, just ran freely and without a care in his mind.

 _Why can't I sleep?_

 _Why was I born this way?_

 _Why does mom have to overact and turn things into a huge drama?_

 _What is Bucky Barnes hinting at by running away?_

Thoughts similar to those can be spotted inside the seventeen year old's mind. He knew that he should not stress himself with all the thinking but, he just could not help himself! His life is no walk in the park.

Finally, at four am Steve was able to sleep. Mind a complete blank and his face scrunched up at the dream he's currently having.

A dream where the whole world is black and he's the only human roaming it. Wandering around aimlessly hoping to find someone, anyone besides himself.

He sees a small glint of light a few feet ahead of him, it seemed as if the light was flickering. Steve ran towards the flickering light, hope growing within him that there might be another human. As he reached his hand out to grab for the light, it flickered out. Leaving Steve in total darkness. The blonde haired teen couldn't take it any more as he let out a maddened scream.

Steve awoke with a start, gasping for air. Beads of sweat rolling down his face, hair sticking everywhere and heart beating fast.

Steve's blue eyes darted all over the room, making sure that he was not in that dark, black world. He calmed down the beating of his heart, evened his breathing and ran his hand on the side of his face.

Bucky Barnes was standing in front of the kitchen sink, looking out the window and sipping idly on his coffee. He thought that he might need something to wake him up after staying up for a bit.

It was when Bucky placed the frozen waffle in the toaster did he hear the banging of his front door. Curious, Bucky walked to his door with narrowed eyebrows. He stole a glance at the clock hanging on the wall, and wondering who the hell would be knocking on his door at nine am during a summer holiday?

"What do you mean by, 'running away'?"

A sly smirk grew on Bucky's face at the sight of the frowning blonde haired boy, hair disheveled and eyes sunken due to the lack of sleep.

"Come in." Bucky moved aside, with that creepy smirk on his lips, making Steve doubt his decision on visiting his neighbor and finding the truth behind his words.

But, too late now seeing as he already has been invited by the tall, tatted man.

"What do you mean by running away?" Steve asked once again as he took a seat on the dusty, maroon old couch.

Bucky's house was small. The kitchen taking half the space of the living room, a table big enough for four laid in the middle of the kitchen besides the oven where a sink is located to its right that was filled with water and Steve thinks that it's filled with dirty dishes.

The living room is painted in yellow. Some parts of the wall had a mix of yellow and a grey color due to the old age of paint. There was a small box TV on a small coffee table just a few feet away from Steve that was on mute and showing a 60's game program that the white haired teen did not know the name of.

On the far side of the living room, a book shelve was placed by the window that had daisy patterned curtains. The book shelve had three shelves; on the highest shelves, there were three picture frames. The first one had a wedding photo of a woman with strawberry blonde hair with snow skin and blue eyes. Next to her stood a tall man with sandy hair and slightly tanned skin, a warm and loving smile on his lips. Eyes almost into crescents. The next photo frame had a picture of the same blonde woman with a new born baby in her arms, she was looking down at the baby with her hair matted on her forehead. She looked exhausted but a proud smile was resting on her face. And the last frame had a picture of a slightly tanned boy, who looked about to be four years old, looking at the camera with spaghetti strings connecting his mouth with the plate. His eyes turned into full crescents.

"Are those your parents?" Steve asked, as he looked at another picture carefully. He felt his heart tighten in envy, how he wished he and his parents were like Bucky's.

"Yes. They were." Bucky answered as he sat on the single brown couch on Steve's right.

 _Wait, were? Then that means…_

They were mugged and stabbed to death." Bucky answered, eyes lingering on the picture frame that had his parents smiling.

Steve bit his lower lip as he thought on what he should reply to that. He shouldn't have asked that question in the first place. But he was curious as to why no one was by the stove, cooking breakfast or why no one was laughing at whatever the TV was showing.

"I'm sorry." Steve whispered, looking down at his lap as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Don't be." Bucky grunted then standing up and heading to the kitchen and towards the once white refrigerator that had dust on the bottom of it.

Steve followed behind quietly, staring at Bucky's bent figure.

"Beer?" the elder asked as he held up two cans of the alcoholic beverages.

The teenager shook his head, "I'm underaged."

The tatted male just snorted. "You got to live your life early sometimes." He walked over to the teen and shoving the drink in his hands.

"Bottoms up." He muttered after opening the can and taking huge gulps out of it. "Ahhh." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat on the kitchen chair, putting both his legs on the table.

Bucky gestured with his hand for Steve to take a seat. The boy looked between Bucky and the empty chairs before taking a seat on the head of the table, sitting directly in front of the older.

"Drink up." He urged the white haired boy staring intensely at him. As if Steve drinking the alcohol beverage would prove Steve's loyalty or honesty.

The boy hesitated before he placed his hand on the top of the can and pulling back the folded edge. He brought the can up to his mouth, taking a deep breath, before taking a big sip and gulping the liquid down his throat. Hissing afterwards at the sting he felt in his throat.

"Thought you'd chicken out." The elder chuckled at the, now, blushing boy.

"Will you please answer my question?"

Bucky remind silent for a few moments, his index and middle fingers tapping a random beat on the top of the can.

"Have you ever felt that you don't belong in a certain place? Like, whatever you do or whoever you meet, you just feel out of place? Have you ever felt that someone or something calling out to you? To return to them and feel happy, content and relaxed?"

Steve allowed to lose himself in the hands of his mind to process Bucky's words carefully. Sure, he had always thought he had never belonged in San Pablo. For starters, this is not his birth place. He always felt that he was out of place, never once had he felt that he was with crowd. Instead of collecting baseball cards like most boys at the age of ten did, he collected comic books. Enter teenage years, instead of trying out for the school's sports team, Steve would go and join the science club.

The seventeen year old furrowed is eyebrows. What was Bucky trying to imply exactly? Sure, everyone has a favorite object or place but Steve had a feeling that the elder had meant more than that.

Bucky smirked at the expression on the younger's face. He had him right where he wants him.

"Steve, if you want me to answer your question," Bucky started, staring down at the blonde haired teen. "Answer me this first, where does your heart yearn to be?"

The younger averted his gaze and brought it to the brown and scratched table. He had a very special place in mind but, for personal reasons, didn't wish to reveal them to the elder. But he needed to know what Bucky meant by run away.

The younger let out a deep sigh before he answered, "The Borough of Churches."

"This is what you meant by running away?" a frown settled on pink, thin lips as he took in the sight of the auto mobile before him. The car was a 1970, Cutlass Convertible that was painted white with blue top. The door for the passenger's seat had been replaced with a red and rusted door. The car itself had many dents all over it. The biggest one being on the driver's side door.

"Ain't she a beauty?" Bucky asked, a proud grin on his lips.

"Let me get this straight." The pale skinned teen asked, walking towards the auto mobile and placing his hand on the hood. "You mean to say is that this piece of junk is going to drive all across North America?"

"Yup! Old Betty can handle it!"

"Won't Betty break down?"

The tatted man walked to the front of the car and lifted the hood up. He gestured for Steve to follow and pointed at the engine.

"Ya see that?" the elder asked, "This baby can drive for days and can stand the heat. I've driven her enough to know what her weaknesses are."

Steve noted the form of affection towards the Cutlass. Perhaps it had sentimental values for the elder?

"Are you lending the car to me?"

It would make perfect sense because a) Steve is seventeen and has his license already and b) The elder said to run away meaning that he needed a car to do so and that's why he is showing it to the younger.

A howl of laughter brought Steve out of his thoughts as he stared in utter confusion as to why the sudden burst of laughter from the older man.

"That's a good one, Steve-o!" Bucky wiped the tear from the corner of his eyes with his finger. Taking in a huge amount of air and soon calmed down.

"No, you punk." The elder answered as he took the ten steps separating him from the teen and standing in front of him.

"You and I are both going to run away with me driving old Betty." Bucky spoke as if he spoke to a child with mental challenge. Which was a huge blow to Steve's pride seeing as he had high marks in high school.

"Are you in?"

Steve started thinking, did he really want to leave San Palo? Did he actually want to return to his home across the country and leaving his mentally unstable mother behind?

Bucky's offer is very tempting and Steve knew that he would have an adventure of a life time. He would return to the place on earth he calls home. The place he had dreamt of ever since he and his mother left it all those years ago.

Steve wanted to accept Bucky's offer but the problem is that Bucky didn't know if he could trust the elder or not. For all he knew, he could be a serial killer, a molester or even a rapist.

"I'm in."

In the end, his guts told him to trust the guy and that he had nothing to lose. Well, except for his virginity and his life.


	2. Doi

That night, Steve lay in his bed, thinking.

Bucky had specifically instructed him to pack all of his belongings and meet up with him in front of the garage at 12 pm sharp.

After returning from the elder's house, Steve returned to his own, only to be met with an empty house and a very messy kitchen. He figured that his mother rushed herself by cooking breakfast and running off to her work.

His forty year old, blonde haired mother worked at the supermarket as a cashier. Which often earned the seventeen year old a tough time throughout his school years. Bullied, made of fun and be little by the majority of the school students. Not like their parents had better jobs but he guessed that people coped differently.

He often returned home injured; a black eye, scratches, pieces of food stuck to his hair or had somehow managed to be on his pants and sometimes, he would return home dripping wet. The classic swirly.

He'd return home to, at that time, a sane mother, and cry in her arms. He would complain how the kids at school didn't like him. Absorbing the warmth and comfort that his mother emitted.

But once he became a teen, he stopped crying in his mother's arms. He would bear with the pain and return home, all beaten up, with a blank face. His mother giving up on comforting the boy.

Things went downhill when he became Seventeen, last year. An event occurred which caused his mother to just _snap_. They spent that year always fighting, yelling and screaming at each other. With the doors slamming loudly and a crash of glass coming from downstairs after his mother finished drinking from the bottle of alcohol.

Things only turned from bad to worse at the beginning of this year. His mother taking strange pills that were oddly colored. She became abusive towards the blonde haired boy, insulting him and his father non-stop.

Steve let out a loud sigh before taking the broom from the closet and began cleaning the kitchen.

After he was done cleaning, he spent the rest of his days eating lunch and playing video games. However, he quickly dashed up the stairs once he saw his mother walking from the other side of the road and heading to their home. Not wanting to run in with her, the pale teen quickly went to the rooftop.

He spent his time admiring the view and the slightly chilly breeze. Though it was summer, San Palo is in the slightly cooler place of California. Steve admired the view of the slowly setting sun. Sometimes, he would glance at his neighbor's backyard and see what they were doing to kill off some time.

Mr. Walker, a middle school math teacher who is in his mid-fifties, was busy playing with his white and brown bulldog, throwing the red ball as far as he could for the dog to retrieve. He would laugh warmly when the dog would return and pat his head.

Steve had felt a bit envious towards his neighbor. He always wanted to have a dog – A Rottweiler to be more specific. But, due to his mother's allergies towards animal fur, Steve didn't get to experience life with a loyal companion.

Once the sun had fully set, Steve went back inside and hid in his room. He spent the rest of his night, lying in bed, and just daydreamed.

He pictured himself, with Bucky, running away from this dump. Running away, not looking back and never returning to this hell hole. He saw himself in Bucky's car, staring out of the window. He imagined that the ride would be painfully awkward and silent. Steve doesn't know the guy for crying out loud! What are they supposed to talk about exactly?

Steve, once again, sighed as he turned to his side and faced the window and gazed at the silvery full moon.

 _Can old Betty even handle such long distance?_

 _Where would they sleep when it's too dark and they're too tired to drive?_

 _And what about money?_

It will probably be more than a six day drive if they wanted to stop every once in a while to eat, sleep and use the bathroom and stop by every tourist attraction. So money is a must.

The teen sat up and bent his body on the edge of the left side of his bed and pulled out a rectangular, navy blue, metal box. He then pulled at the string around his neck and unhooked the small key chain from it. He placed the key into the key hole and turned to the left twice before pulling the lid upwards and taking out all the paper money and coins out and began counting the money.

Steve used to work at a café shop downtown for two years but had to stop at the age of Seventeen due to his problems with his mother. He was planning on saving his own money so that he could buy a used car for himself. It didn't matter which kind of car, just as long as it was working and was in one piece, he was fine.

Steve had about 200 dollars and 75 cents. It's good for a single person, but he had Bucky with him. The elder must have at least a sum of cash on him, from working or from something else, Steve didn't want to know.

The seventeen year old began to feel drowsy. He put his money back in his metal box and shoved it under his bed before covering himself up with the blanket and allowing himself to sleep.

"Right on time I see." Bucky stated the next morning as he opened his door to reveal Steve in blue ripped skinny jeans, a black shirt with some graffiti on it , black and red checkered jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of black army boots. His dark green and grey backpack in hand, clutching tightly at the black strap.

Bucky stepped to the side to allow the younger entrance to his house. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled out two cans of beer. Once in the living room, "Heads up!" the tatted man called out and threw the can at the younger who grabbed it with little hassle.

Steve, not so stubbly, watched Bucky through the corner of his eyes. The tall man looked good. He was in a black shirt that had a "Born to Kill!" printed on it in blood red, dark green jeans, a pair of black boots and a black hat covering his very short black hair, exposing all of his neck tattoos.

"Are you ready?" Bucky asked after he finished his can of beer and pulling the strap of his red backpack up his shoulders.

The seventeen year old nodded his head, standing up and following the elder out the door and towards the car that was parked in the drive way, engine already running.

The inside of the car had a certain fragrance. It had this weird combination of chocolate chip cookies, cinnamon, cigarette and coffee. The scent felt, oddly, comforting to the younger.

"So," Steve broke the silence ten minutes after they drove away from the house and towards downtown. "What's the plan today?" he asked as he looked at the scenery out of the car window.

Bucky stretched his hand out and pressed the power button to the radio and turning the volume up. A song by the Misfits started playing through the speakers which the blonde haired teen instantly recognized the song as Skulls, one of his personal favorites.

Huh. So he and Bucky had similar music styles?

"First, need to fill old Betty up with gas for a two day drive." The elder answered, turning the car flasher on so that he could signal that he was turning left and taking a U-turn. "And then we're gonna drive to the closest convenience store and buy whatever that will last us for two days."

Steve nodded his head, not knowing what to say after that and continued looking out the window.

"What type of music you into?" Asked the twenty four year old after a long stretch of awkward silence. His voice seemed to startle the teen seeing as he had jumped from his place.

"Oh," Steve turned to face the elder before answering. "Anything really, mostly rock." The tatted man just nodded his head as he stopped the car because of a red light.

"You?"

Bucky seemed to think for a bit before answering. "Any rock song is good with me." He replied and moved the gear and drove off.

They then arrived at the gas station after five minutes. And during those five minutes, the car ride was painfully awkward and silent. The teen was thankful that they arrived at the gas station as it saved him from another round of awkwardness.

Luckily, the gas station had a convenience store next to it. So, once Bucky finished with filling the car up, the two entered the building with the cool air from the air-condition welcoming them.

The pair decided to split up so that way they could buy whatever they needed faster and be back on the road. Although Steve wants to bond a bit with the elder, he doesn't want to suffer any more awkward silence with the tall male.

Once they paid for their items and are back in the car, the young boy began to question the black haired man.

"What now?"

Bucky turned the steering wheel to the right and turned the corner, "Well, we need to be in Nevada by 10 pm tonight so we shouldn't have any stops along the way seeing as it's a 10 hour drive." The elder replied. "Once we're in Nevada, we'll find us a cheap motel to rest in and then we hit the road tomorrow morning."

"Do we have enough money?" the younger blurted out and the quickly turned his head with wide eyes, worried that he had offended the elder.

Bucky, however, snorted. "Relax, kid." Bucky stretched his right hand out and ruffled the soft white hair. "We have enough money to last us the entire trip and more."

Steve scowled at the elder, grumbling how long it took him to straighten his hair early in the morning.

After a while, the blonde haired boy gazed out of the window and watched as the tall buildings blur by. He allowed his mind to wander off with a soft song playing through the speakers, Bucky humming along.

 _"Daddy, daddy! Look, I'm Luke Skywalker!"_

 _"Woah! You look just like him!"_

 _"But I'm thtronger! Right, daddy?"_

 _A small boy of the age of five yelled joyfully in the backyard with a lisp in his uttering. Wearing a white costume with a brown coat, a large stick in his hand as a light saber. A grin gracing his lips, the calming and soothing sound of laughter escaping his lips whenever he runs around with his father and little brother. Believing that he is Luke Skywalker and that he was actually defeating Darth Vader. Swinging his light saber to protect his father and brother from harm's arms._

 _It was another summer day, where the brown haired boy woke up early and ate his breakfast that his father cooked (Pancakes with blueberries and raspberries, his favorite.) and drinking his orange juice from his Star Wars cup._

 _"Are you ready, daddy?" the boy asked excitedly, his high pitched voice cracking slightly at the end of his sentence._

 _"Woah! You did it, Steve! You saved Mikey and me!" his father cheered as he picked up his little son and twirled. He then dashed all over the backyard with his son, both enjoying their spacecraft that was sailing through space._

"Steve…"

The teen whined at the annoying and insistent shaking on his shoulders. Blindly reaching his hands to swat at whatever it was that was shaking him.

"Hey kid, wake up! We're here."

Here?

The seventeen year old slowly fluttered his eyes open and detached his body from the car door. Eyes a bit puffy from sleep and a light frown on his lips as his eyes took in his surroundings confusedly.

Then it hit him. He and Bucky running away from home, their plan to drive across the country to Steve's actual home, Brooklyn.

"Where are we?" the teen asked sleepily as he raised his arms as high as he could in the small space of the car, stretching and groaning at the feel.

"We're at the Sunny Hills motel." Bucky replied as he cut the engine off, then unfastening his seatbelt and bending his body sideways and taking the backpack from the back seat of the car and then existing the vehicle.

"Welcome to the Sunny Hills motel, how may I be of any assistance to you?" a round woman with wrinkles around the edges of her eyes and the sides of her mouth with brown graying hair, tied in a bun that appeared to be in her mid-fifties asked in a monotone voice, idly flipping the pages of some magazine without looking up at the boys.

"We'd like a room for two, please." Bucky answered the woman.

The woman sighed loudly before asking, "Would you like a single or a double?"

"Double."

The round woman lazy dragged her wheeled chair to the left and began clicking on the key boards of the computer, a frown on her lips that gained her ten more years of age.

While the woman was clicking away, Steve allowed himself to roam the small lobby with his eyes. The lobby had poor, yellow lighting. The fortunate looked old and a bit dirty, the tables made out of fake wood and had scratches on them. The teen squinted his eyes at something very small dandled beneath the table surface, he concluded that it was a piece of gum.

"Alright." The woman's voice startled Steve and he wiped his head to face her, almost cracking his neck.

"You'll be staying in room 6277 located on the left side once you exit the lobby, if you've reached the pool side than you've missed your room and need to retrieve your steps."

Bucky nodded his head and reached his hand backwards, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.

"How much is it for the night?"

"60 bucks, without breakfast. $75 with breakfast."

Bucky took out the amount of money, 75 dollars, and slid it across the rough surface of the table. The old woman counted the money before stuffing it down her bra and saying, "Breakfast will be open from 8 am till 10 am. Don't miss it!"

Once in their room, Steve threw himself on the hard bed. Whining at the feel beneath him and how uncomfortable it was, Bucky also not being able to hide the slight frown on his face.

As soon as they were done showering, taking a dump and brushing their teeth, they slid themselves under the covers.

"We need to wake up 7am sharp and leave this place at 8:30. We need to take the I-80 at 2 pm." Bucky broke the silence. "From there we'll see what will happen. For now, let's sleep." And with that, the tatted man turned his body and faced the wall in front of him.

"Goodnight." Steve muttered, though he doubts that the elder heard him.

Steve lay on his back, staring at the barely moving fan. It was going to be a long trip with Bucky. And whether he liked it or not, he needs to have some sort of conversation with the elder to kill the silence in the car.

The teen turned to his side, back towards Bucky and front facing the window. He could still hear the sounds of cars and people talking aloud though it was way past 11pm. He stared at the moon, heart beating fast at the thought that he'll be returning home soon, he just has to be patient.

After all, good things comes to those who wait. Right?


End file.
